I am straddling Marini’s horse
using the horseman’s cock as my handle
galloping in place until it comes off in my hand.

Your blood is a river from your side; tributaries
flow from your hands and feet.

The Palladian arch framing the scene
contains my grief.

I tire as I carve the passage
Til the wind peeks out from underneath.
Yes, I guess this is clean now.

It's true: I am a coward. The other night,
at dinner, I neglected to tell you how much
I detest your latest novel. Had you asked me,

How easily we say he’s down 
And out or itinerant, that tramp 
Rummaging the afternoon, 

& with a blunt cafeteria table knife
mr macadam clerical officer bludgeons
the half poached egg that is his

whisper it gently when you
want me to wander away
the kiss off will refuse ad–

the sand is always there again in
the morning sprawling in the
tall dawn light and gulls pull at

If the Emperor smiles
a thread falls that cuts